Hypocrisy
Name: Hypocrisy (AKA: Crisy) Physical Age: 16 True Age: 16 Gender: Female Faction: Sin Element: R2 Air 'Power' Hypocrisy hardly trusts her powers. Being new, she's still highly uncomfortable with them. She does ponder about what she could do with her powers once she's in control from time to time and fancies herself being able to use strong gusts of wind to help her fly, to run faster, and to control air pressure; whether it be to use pressure to crush her enemies or merely suffocating them. But for now, she hasn't any control over her powers and they sometimes tend to react emotionally, creating sudden small twisters or strong gusts of wind. She wants to learn and shows eagerness in doing so, but is also afraid – though she doesn't show it – since she dislikes it intensely when she loses control over it. 'Weapon' Hypocrisy's accuracy has never been too good with a bow, but a crossbow certainly improves her chances of hitting a target. She need not judge the distance of her target nor judge the angle of which her arrow would fly too much; and this suits her perfectly. Her crossbow and her arrows are handmade by her, made from the typical heartwood of yew trees. Her crossbow is designed to be sturdy for short ranged melee combat, allowing her to beat her enemy senseless. However, this is not her primary melee weapon since she can't bear to dent or risk breaking her precious baby. She merely uses it to stall for enough time to draw her kodachi-sword for proper fighting, and to go for the kill, if necessary. Her kodachi-sword is simple like any other kodachi sword. 'Summon' Her spiritual summon comes in the form of a male King Cheetah named Flik. Not as elegant as the actual cheetah, but is larger and, well, different. It can try to blend with other cheetahs but will always be different. This appeals to her in a way. Flik is the only being that Hypocrisy allows to criticize her. All in good nature, Flik advises Hypocrisy and keeps her, well, hypocrisy in check; making sure she doesn't grovel too much to those she intensely dislikes as it isn't quite healthy to her mentally or emotionally. To Hypocrisy, Flik is the only friend she allows herself to trust completely, as it is a part of her. In fact, Hypocrisy trusts Flik more than she trusts herself; since she's hardly certain on what she likes and dislikes. She does what she loathes in others. Hypocrisy relies on her summon – not just as a friend – but to distract her enemies while she escape should she ever feel the need to. Her element of air and its characteristics of speed combine well together for the prefect escape or chase. 'History' Aravia was born a single child to a preacher and a young woman she never had the chance to call "Mother". Before she was born, her mother had been ill and it was suspected neither would survive. But Aravia did whilst her mother didn't. Her father, however, never lost courage. Though he mourned, he considered Aravia his darling angel; his gift from the above. Thus she was raised with much attention. She was finely spoilt, arrogant and naggy. In a way, she was influenced by her father, preaching to those around her whether they liked it or not. She genuinely care about her father and is nothing but bright and cheery and innocent; and thus, her father remains oblivious to her behavior towards others. This in turn, however, only irks the townsfolk more. They understood that she was the daughter of the town's beloved preacher; that they were to treat her with respect or it would mean disrespect to the preacher himself. But the longer time went on, the more some of them grew tired saw no reason why this hypocritical brat of his should be tolerated. They tried confronting her about it, but she shrugged it off without a care; and this did nothing to help her situation. She was deeply upset about it but saw no need to change; the way she saw it, the others were all hypocrites as well; befriending her when they disliked her. Why should she change? Three of her closest 'friends' one day took her out to the woods under the farce that they were going to play along the river when in truth, they planned to play a prank on her; to teach her some sort of lesson. Once in the woods, they caught her off-guard and dunked her head into the river a couple of times; mocking her all the while. In-between dunks, she'd gasp desperately for air as she sputtered out begs and please to make them to stop, that violence wasn't the way to solve anything and that they could kill her. They laughed her off, claiming they knew how far they would be going with this; that words had no effect on her, perhaps this could get through to her. This did nothing to reassure Aravia. She was frightened and in a state of panic. In an attempt to break free, she dug her nails into the hands strongly wound into her hair, leaving crescent indents that trickled blood. The grasp in her hair loosened and she broke free. She could have ran. Sometimes she wished she had ran. Instead, Aravia turned to the girl who held her and clawed at her face with her sharp nails. With a screech, she proceeded to wrap her hands around her friend's neck and squeezed. the others tried to pry her off, but she kicked wildly at them and continued squeezing. She stared wildly at her friend's eyes which grew wide and wild, threatening to pop out of their sockets. Her friend's hands clawed desperately to try get Aravia's hands loose but eventually, those hands fell limp and lifeless to her side. But Aravia didn't let go. The other 2 gasped in horror at the scene and only then did she let go. She stared wildly at them, grinned. She couldn't possibly let them go. She couldn't even feel the urge to cry, to apologize, or to run. The rush that went through her was intoxicating and it was all that she could think of. Forget about what she said earlier about killing. 'Better to kill than be killed,' she thought dazedly before tackling one of her 'friends'. Before she could do anything to her, the last friend grabbed a sharp rock, brought it above her head and brought it down as hard as she could onto the back of Aravia's head. She was not dead – no, not yet – but she was dazed. "You filthy hypocrite..!!" Another hard thud and then, she was greeted with darkness. When her eyes open again, she felt not the bloodlust from before, nor the sore from being betrayed by her friends. All she felt was confusion. "How am I still... alive?" 'Appearance' Hypocrisy stands at an average height for girls her age. Her hazel brown hair curls into ringlets that reach slightly above her shoulders. Her curls frame the pale rounded features of her face. A pale yellow hairclip – accompanied with her black headband – pins a part of her uneven V-cut bangs from falling into her face; her equally brown eyes not in the least hidden. She dresses herself in a loose pale yellow sundress, with a black waistband, that reaches down to her mid-thigh. She had always sported sundresses, having loved the way it was pretty, girly and does not hinder her movements too much. More importantly, she loved how she could twirl her skirt around and about when she's in a particularly giddy mood. Under the short dress, she sports a pair of brown shorts, with pockets – for convenience sake – and wears thick and sturdy brown fingerless-gloves on both hands. For footwear, she wears a pair of brown knee-high boots. A quiver full of short hand-made arrows is strapped around her waist so that it hangs just behind her; horizontally but slightly tilted in an angle so the arrows don't spill out easily. Her kodachi is sheathed by her waist, like any other sword would Category:Characters Category:Sins Category:Air